


You Do The Dirty With Victor Hugo's Remains (imagine)

by cursedcontentdotcom



Category: 19th Century CE France RPF, Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Necrophilia, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:54:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26222980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cursedcontentdotcom/pseuds/cursedcontentdotcom
Summary: it's bone fucking o'clock !
Relationships: Victor Hugo/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	You Do The Dirty With Victor Hugo's Remains (imagine)

Imagine…

Since the success of your seance, you have been unable to think of little else. It is almost like the spirit of Victor Hugo is following you, popping into your thoughts at the slightest provocation. He excites you more than any living man you have ever encountered - which is how you get your idea.

It is ludicrous, even blasphemous. It should not be possible. And yet a few weeks later, you find yourself standing beside your bed. It is fitted with red silk sheets, as best befits the occasion. Lying on the extensively embroidered duvet is Victor Hugo’s skeleton.

Getting hold of his remains wasn’t easy, but you have never been easily daunted. By rights, his body should be dust by now. It has been over a hundred years since he breathed his last, but the bones remain intact. You hold your breath as you trace a finger along the elegant, high forehead, imagining it as it was in life.

Stepping back from the bed, you let your delicate nightgown fall from you, exposing your perfect body to the night air. If Hugo were still living, he would immediately set pen to paper and compose the most moving of haikus describing it.

As it is, he can do no more than lie there. A thrill runs through you when you think of the many women this body has pleasured in its lifetime. And now he will have another entry for his sex diary - albeit from beyond the grave.

Your heart in your mouth, you climb onto the bed next to him, still stroking his bones. The chance of catching a STD is low, but can one contract some other horrible disease from fucking a skeleton? There’s only one way to find out.

Still stroking the skull, you move closer to kiss it, extending your tongue into the permanently open mouth. Hugo is cold to your touch and more vulnerable than you expected. You take one of his skeletal hands - so meaty in their prime, now reduced to bony digits - and place it on one of your perfect breasts. Gyrating your hips over his pelvis, you begin to grind against him - hoping none of your pleasure cave’s natural acids will erode the bone.

Even at this early stage, you can tell this will be the best sex you’ve ever had.

**Author's Note:**

> [original post](https://badlesmisimagines.tumblr.com/post/183996346405/i-know-i-said-i-was-burnt-out-for-the-time-being)


End file.
